The Son of White
by ForDaLoveOfCuntBoi
Summary: He was considered mute and old by the color of his hair, and couldn't take a joke. He was always in the corner of everything, until he met him. Why Vicious was named 'Vicious' and how he befriended the beloved bounty hunter know as Spike. Read and Reveiw, and mutual Spi/Vic in later chapters. Inspired by Haku Yowane's 'Daughter of white'
1. The 'old' kid

An actual yaoi with a plot about Spike and Vicious

TTPV

Read and review please, and tell me some one actually gives a damn about this couple.

I don't own anything

Before the syndicate, like when Spike and Vicious where kids.

It was foggy that day, murky in the schoolyard that day for recess. The sky was a foggy white instead of blue. The woodchips that covered the ground where soggy and stick to your backside when you sat up. The playground equipment was rusty and could break down at any moment but the kids still played on it with ignorant smiles. At least, that's what he called them. The kid who sat in the far corner. The kid with grey hair, the kid who sat in the cold.

No one talked to him, if they did they would insult him, call him old because of his hair.

He never talked to anyone, he wasn't even sure if he had a name. He called them false smiles, because of this world they lived in, nothing else existed out of the small town that was always engulfed in a white sky, no one ever saw a blue sky, felt the warmth of the sun. Only the moon of night, and the wet rain.

he sat in that same spot, after lunch was recess, then back to class. Everyday, he just sat there, stairing at the playground, the girls singing loudly. The boys shouting wildly, and climbing about the worn out metal on the playground. How can they be happy in such a miserable setting? The boy sighed; their happiness was his pain.

He was used to things, one thing was pain, he felt it everyday, and he learned not to cry when the physical feeling, and the emotional factor struck him.

He called himself Vicious, at least what his parents called him, it was short for 'Vicious Mistake', and he was never wanted in this world. His parents told him that to his face when he was only four. Three years later, he was only 7, in second grade. The words still stung like the nats that always made their way in his room and stung him in his sleep.

He sat in the corner of the schoolyard because he blended in; actually, he sat in the corner of everything, the classroom and the lunchroom whenever he had the chance. And only one person ever noticed him, a boy named Spike, he knew his name when the teacher called him up. He remembered him by one attribute, his wild green hair. No one picked on him for it because it made him look his age, unlike his hair. He ran a hand through it, smooth and wet from the high humidity.

He sighed, and then heard footsteps near him, he wanted to pass them off as a kid running by him or someone trying to retrieve the ball, but as much as he wished it, as much as he wanted it. It wasn't, Vicious looked up, it was he.

They exchanged blank glances at each other, till Spike finally said something, "Everyone says you're mute."

Vicious blinked, he never talked, and maybe he was mute.

"Well, you heard wrong." He replied; wanting to prove one of them wrong, and Spike looked like one of them.

It took a few moments later before Spike responded, "I knew they were lying, it's just that you never talk." Spike said as he sat next to Vicious, Vicious was bothered by it, but didn't say anything. Instead he just said, "Your name is Spike, right?"

Spike gasped, "How did you know my name?"

"I know many things." Vicious replied.

"Are you a stalker or something?" Spike was young, he didn't know fantasy from reality, but at least he didn't ask 'Are you physic.' Because that is just flat out ridiculous.

"No, I just heard your name from one of the teachers."  
"You're in one of my classes?" Spike asked, smiling, "Wow, I didn't even notice you, you're so quiet! Which class?"

Vicious frowned, looking away from Spike shyly, what was it about him? He made Vicious uneasy, and a new kind of uneasy, he actually felt shy, "English, Mrs. Kanin."

"In the class I always fall asleep in? No wonder!" (Spike is a kid, so I figured he would act more cheerful)

Vicious, chuckled slightly, smilling at Spike.

Spike laughed, poking Vicious on the forehead. Who simply just rubbed his head in response Although, Vicious took it as an insult, he growled as Spike continued to laugh, Vicious took it the wrong way, he could never tell friendly laughs with mocking laughs, so with a growl, Vicious stood up and pushed Spike into the dirt.

Spike grunted upon impact, and looked up at the angry boy.

"Hey, what the hell?" Spike yelled at Vicious, standing up from the dirt and facing him, looking directly into his eyes.

"Don't do something like that you asshole!" Vicious yelled back (Hey, watch Elfen Lied and you'll get it) "I don't liked to be poked then laughed at!"

"Can't you take a joke?"

"No, as a matter of fact I can't!" Vicious yelled, that's when Spike made him realize something about himself. He can't take a joke.

Spike pushed Vicious back, Vicious did the same, only pushing Spike back into the dirt and walking away, he didn't want to draw any attention, even though he already did.

Vicious walked behind his school complex, curled up in a ball, gripping his hair. He can't take a joke? Goddamnit, he screwed up, the only person who was nice to him, and he managed to screw up.

Vicious sighed, he just sat there, he didn't go back to class or anything, he just walked home, where his parents are waiting for him. Although Vicious would rather sleep in the streets that night.


	2. His virtual journal

Since I am taking my first and only review as a compliment, I am continuing this

TheInsaneOtakuFangirl

Let it be said, I specialize in PWP, so I know, the plot, if there, is any sucks

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Spike sat in English class, tapping pencil on the blank loose-leaf paper in front of him. He didn't really listen to the teacher, he didn't have a tendency to; he hated English class the most. Hence why he has failing grades in that class. He vaguely remembered Vicious saying something about him being in the same English class as him. Ever since he said that, Spike didn't fall asleep in class, he still didn't listen to the teacher, even though he first talked to Vicious today.

Spike scanned the room, in the corner, by the window; there was an empty desk. Even though no one was there, he still stared at it like it was so interesting. He was here today, where is he?

"Hey Spike, what'cha looking at?"

Spike turned to face the kid next to him, everyone seemed to know him, "Nothing, he responded."

"Anything but listening to the teacher, that's for sure." The kid said before returning to his own business. Spike just stared out the window, 'Vicious' he thought.

Vicious walked down the empty street, looking down at the sidewalk as his feet moved back and forth. Cutting school was nothing, he done it before, no big deal. Even the consequences he was used to, meeting his parents back at his house.

They didn't care, about him, about his existence, he didn't care either, that's how his life was. All they really did when he came home was slap him across the face and tell him to stay up in his room, not even bothering to come out for Vicious aproched the front door of his house, the door swung open, and there they stood. The people he called his parents, its like they knew he skipped school the way they stood at the door.

"Why did you skip school agin, you brat?" The hags voice streached, Vicious just looked at them, like he wasn't afraid of the slap that came rachiting down across his face. "taking everything we do for you for granit, huh?" What? it didn't matter what he did wrong, whether it be skipping school because he wasn't learning anything, or doing nothing, his parents only did the basic things for him, pay for school and give him food, just about it. They never bothered buying him anything else, or even a cake on is birthday, instead a constant reminder thay he was never wanted in this world.

Vicious reacted the same way with his punishment, he just returned to his empty room, looking out the window, his room was practacly empty, all he had was a bed, a dim lamp, a teddy bear with the head ripped off, cottong puffing out the open neck hole. And a laptop that he stole from someones house. Hey, his parents never gave him anything, why would they bother buying him a laptop, if he was such a mistake why do they bother giving him food? Probaby to avoid being shunned.

His parents didn't know abou the laptop, the never check on him, that's the last thing they would ever do. Vicious sat at his desk and opened the laptop, the wallpaper was a wallpaper for some old anime. Anime cheered him up, seeing people with miserable lifes, making connections with characters, making him laugh, making him weep silently when his favorite character dies. He opens up a little journal application that he written in, and began typing.

_November 3, 2053_

_My life has not changed the at the least, I still sit in the corner, the air is still warm enough to stay outside for recess, but cool, I don't care. Although one thing has changed, that kid Spike, the one who has green hair, he talked to me. Actually talking to me and not making fun of me, or calling me an old guy. Or mute, or whatever, I don't know why, he gave me some strange feeling, like I was completly vunerable at the time. How? I took a simple poke to the head as a punch to the face and I shoved him into the dirt, what the hell? it isn't my fault I'm so screwed up, and can't take a simple joke.  
I don't get it at this point, Spike probably hates me and is telling all those assholes in the school that I'm exactly what they say, or just some asshole with no sence of humor, or are those the same thing? I'm not sure, well, basicly it that I want to write down and get it off my mind, it's kinda sad that the only thing I can trust is a laptop._

Vicious saved and clicked close, he leaned back and sighed, another day, another day in hell, he grabed a book he took from the school and lied down on his bed, nothing new.

* * *

Don't know don't care


End file.
